


Beloved Flower, Unloved Flower: Could Have Been

by RainSky



Series: Two Halves of a Single Weapon [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Brother/Sister Incest, Character Death, Disinheritance, F/M, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth, Multi, Other, Patriarchal Society, Political Marriage, Sibling Incest, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainSky/pseuds/RainSky
Summary: It could have been worse than being Princess Consort to a Fire Lord who loves someone else. One-shot, complete. Trigger warnings at top below author's note. Additional author's note and guest review replies at the bottom. Cross-post from FFN.Point-of-divergence fromMoths to a Flame.
Relationships: Azula/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Two Halves of a Single Weapon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918474
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	Beloved Flower, Unloved Flower: Could Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story does not comply with my personal head-canon (see other story), but it is one of the scenarios I imagined. I decided to write this out as an exercise in character study.
> 
> TW: Death and suicide; allusions to (consensual) incest, child abuse, and spousal abuse. OC-centric.

Rana never dared hope she would be lucky enough for her political marriage to turn into the blossoming romance of a lifetime. Her sisters and her friends used to muse "What if…?" and share in their hopes that their futures would read like a dreamy serial.  


It could have been worse. Her elder sister wound up married to a Minister of the Interior from the Northern Water Tribe. At least the Fire Nation dependably brought blue skies and sunshine for most of the year. Juri's letters suggested that though the Northern Water Tribe in general was becoming a more open place for women, her husband in particular was a poor excuse for a human being, and Juri found the cold seascapes inhospitable.  


It could have been worse. The young Fire Lord was unfailingly kind and polite. He told her in no uncertain terms that she could request anything of him, and he would do everything in his power to obtain it for her. Rana was grateful and had no intention of ever abusing this promise.  


It could have been worse. He had an awful burn on one side of his face, courtesy of a cruel father, but Rana found him otherwise pleasing to look at. Within a week, the burn scar did not even faze her anymore.  


Also residing in the Royal Palace was the Princess Regnant, the Fire Lord's younger sister. She was as beautiful as her brother, her face unmarred. During the war, she had been a key strategist and an incredibly powerful fire-bending prodigy as befit her duty; the Fire Lord redirected her brilliant mind to logistics and supply-chain management and her unmatched flame to pursuing particularly elusive criminals. Rana had initially hoped to befriend the Princess, but she had been civil and distant; the Fire Lord said his sister had had a difficult life and was best admired from afar until she decided she could trust her.  


The Princess Regnant was two years the Fire Lord's junior, but the handsome siblings' very existences seemed inextricably intertwined like a pair of short-blooming sal trees.  


Rana sometimes heard them. The first time, when she realised the meaning of the foreign sounds, she wept silently in place. She had never known a man before her wedding night, and was ever so thankful the Fire Lord was so gentle. But when he made love to the Princess Regnant, though their words were muffled, there was a desperate longing and hunger in their voices. Rana may not have been brilliant, but she knew well that their lovemaking was nothing like the polite, passionless activity that took place in her own bed.  


The Fire Lord and the Princess Regnant's comportment in public never gave their secret away. There was no suspicious averting of eyes, no stolen kisses, no lingering gaze held a moment too long. Their fingers never touched in any notably intimate way, and their hair was never mussed. But knowing the truth, Rana could feel the yearning that burned invisibly in the air, and always wondered, "Why couldn't it be me?"  


Rana knew she was outmatched. She was not a fire-bender or a bender of any kind, much less a genius that pursued perfection because it was within reach. She was not a political or military chessmaster with the capability to advance the interest of the Fire Nation. By the steadfast Kolau Mountains, Rana wasn't even pretty let alone a beauty of renown. She was all angles and curves in all the wrong places and her only two points of beauty - her tree-like lankiness and her loamy earth-coloured hair - were seen as gawkiness and dirt, respectively, in the Fire Nation, in stark contrast to the Princess Regnant's delicate, petite frame and blackberry-lily seed tresses.  


The closest the Princess Consort ever got to intimacy with her husband was around the birth of their daughter. His golden eyes had lit up like the life-giving sun when the Chief Royal Doctor delivered the initial news. He'd assigned nearly every medical practitioner in the entire palace to wait on her every need. The Empress Orchids she had once requested a small number of for a personal garden were imported by the shipload, potted, and used to adorn the balconies of every room in the palace; after all, Rana would be in no shape to tend her little garden for at least a year. For once, Rana felt special - the Princess Regnant could birth a child but never an heir, could never outshine her in this field.  


After the delivery, the Fire Lord had gazed upon their newborn daughter with a broad smile, and Rana knew they were agreed - their child, their creation, was nothing short of a miracle.  


All throughout her pregnancy, Rana had hoped this moment would lead to a warmer relationship. She'd seen how easily adept he was with his much younger half-sister, a baseborn girl of no lineage whatsoever; he was sure to be a good, loving father. And then, it was time to choose a name.  


"Rana, how would you feel about calling her 'Izumi'?" His eyes were still on the baby. "It's from a classical Fire Nation court poem, one of Azula's favourites. The actual Izumi Island is lovely as well; I'd love to take you there sometime. You _must_ see the Starlight Plumeria flowers."  


Rana's heart sank. Her child would be named at her rival's whim. No, the Princess Regnant was not her rival - she had already won and Rana had never been a contender. Rana smiled weakly. "Izumi. That's a beautiful name."  


It could have been worse. When Juri gave birth to a daughter, her husband publicly ignored her for two years in favour of openly cavorting with a harem of concubines. The Fire Nation had no such preference for male heirs. The Fire Lord continued to utter greetings and make small talk over the state of Rana's Earth Kingdom garden, her little piece of home. The Fire Lord bade the doctors check up on Rana twice daily, and often asked after her well-being; but even a year later, he did not join her in her bed. It did not take a genius to know that, with an heir healthy and thriving, he would never lie with her again.  


It could have been worse. Rana thought of her mother, of Juri, and of her brother's wife, almost constantly with child, no matter how difficult the previous birth had been. She had always been fond of her brother, but now that she really thought about it, like with their father, he never considered his wife to be anything more than a replaceable source of children.  


It could have been worse. Aside from a single healthy heir, the Fire Lord demanded nothing of her and still treated her civilly. He'd arranged for the palace chefs to purchase ingredients found in Earth Kingdom cuisine and study Ba Sing Se culinary techniques; he'd arranged for her attendants to bring her countless native Earth Kingdom bouquets on her birthday; he'd even arranged for the servants to join her in observing Earth Kingdom festivities. He never partook in any of it himself, and neither would Izumi.

  
  


Late in Rana's post-natal recovery, the Princess Regnant led an elite battalion of fire-benders to apprehend a serial killer who specifically targeted young women in the provinces. Against the Fire Lord's wishes, the Princess Regnant would personally act as bait. After a week, she'd sent word that the Fox Groom had killed one of her good, loyal commandos; she'd ditched the rest of her unit and would be tracking the Fox Groom into the Earth Kingdom solo.  


For once, Rana saw the Fire Lord lose his composure. He'd always been a gentle, warm presence, burning evenly like a flame in a lantern. Upon reading the message from his sister's hawk, he'd stormed violently like a wildfire ready to consume the land without regard for life or balance. As it turned out, the Fire Lord vented his frustrations the same way the Princess Regnant did - the private Royal Training Grounds were on the other end of the palace estate, but his golden flames, decorated with pumpkin, orchid, and the exact green of spring shoots, were explosively visible in the sky. Rana would not have been surprised if people living on the western coast of the mainland were able to see the flames as well. She hadn't been afraid of him since the first time they'd met up close and she'd seen the extent of his burn scar.  


The very next day, the Fire Lord conducted his day-to-day affairs as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred the previous evening, but Rana noted a hint of a dark circle on the unblemished half of his face. For nearly two months, his good eye appeared more and more sunken and he merely picked at his meals. His robes hung loosely off his frame; Rana caught sight of the Chief Royal Tailor taking in several pairs of trousers. He slept fitfully at his desk, and only when exhaustion overcame him.  


Finally, the Princess Regnant returned, triumphantly presenting the decapitated and partially burnt head of the heartless killer, having picked up her battalion on her way back. She appeared weary, her skin less dewy than usual; but she looked the picture of health compared to her gaunt brother. The entire court gasped when the Fire Lord walked right up to the Princess Regnant, snatched her forearm, and sharply yanked her off into a side-room. Rana suspected he may well have dislocated her shoulder, given how brusque he had been.  


The Fire Lord's words were not at all muffled this time, a tirade of rebukes and anguished yells. The Princess Regnant must truly have been tired; her acerbic tongue put up only feeble resistance as he ranted. " _Never_ do that again… You could have been _killed_ … We are a _team_ , two halves of a single weapon! The Fire Lord's palace will _always_ be incomplete if one of us is missing…"  


_It must be nice to be needed - wanted._ Rana mused, hugging the sleeping Izumi tighter to her chest, her eyes lingering on the box that held the remains of a monster.

  
  


Izumi was three when Rana set foot on Izumi Island. True to the Fire Lord's word, it was a tropical paradise. It was mid-autumn and balmy, but they'd avoided the worst of the summer heat wave - "they" being Rana and Izumi. A cheerful young flameborn Kyoshi Warrior named Ty Lee had been personally entrusted by the Fire Lord to lead the retinue of guards and servants accompanying them, with the Fire Lord's apologies for being unable to join them. It was true that the Fire Lord and his ministers seemed more mired than ever in negotiations and treaties; but while Ty Lee's chipper introduction of the island's native flora and fauna fascinated the little Crown Princess, it could not dispel Rana's suspicions that the Princess Regnant's upcoming birthday was the true reason for the Fire Lord's absence.

  
  


When Izumi was four, the Fire Lord's aging uncle taught her to play pai sho. Initially playing Rana for an extra dessert, it took Izumi only eight months to consistently defeat her mother. Upon visible weight gain, the Fire Lord ordered Izumi to play against him instead.

  
  


The spring Izumi was on the cusp of seven, she entered the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. Rana's heart screamed against letting Izumi go; she was the only person in the entire palace who actively wanted Rana's presence. How could Rana bear to see Izumi only on weekends and holidays?  


"Both of my sisters are alumni of the school," he'd gently reassured her, completely missing the reason for her reluctance. "Izumi will be better taken care of there than just about anywhere else in the nation. The instruction there is second to none."  


Rana fretted and wrung her hands the first week, but Izumi came home that weekend with a wide grin, spitting out a million words per minute about her lessons, her teachers, and her classmates. It would seem she had already made new friends. Izumi would be a popular leader some day.  


With Izumi away at school for most of the week, Rana helplessly spent her days in her garden, fussing over each bud and shoot. On rare occasions, she would spy the Princess Regnant in the main Royal Garden, using her striking blue flames to burn away malformed Sunset Camellias, erasing any evidence of the imperfect blooms' existence. She expected her flowers to be flawless; non-compliance was not an option.  


It was a very stark difference from Rana's careful nurturing; aside from during and right after pregnancy, Rana refused to let the Royal Gardeners do more than clear weeds and fallen foliage. Her garden was her haven, her refuge; her bond with her plants was intimate the way her marriage was not.

  
  


In summer 123 AG, Rana's mother sent a seldom letter. Rana skimmed her eyes over several paragraphs of boilerplate - ah, there it was. Her youngest sister had run away in the face of her upcoming nuptials. If Kisa were to come to Rana for sanctuary, her parents expected Rana to turn her over.  


Rana scoffed. She was nearly twenty when Kisa was born, a difficult late pregnancy for their mother. The notion that Kisa would trust her enough to make the perilous journey from the mainland out to the Fire Nation's Capital Island over treacherous waves was laughable.  


The letter also mentioned the would-be groom: one of Rana's school mates at Ba Sing Se University, a pompous prat Rana begrudgingly admit was gifted at both architecture and earth-bending. It was no wonder Kisa ran away.

  
  


At nearly thirteen, Izumi graduated from her prestigious school. Though she was now home in the palace everyday, Rana hardly saw her outside of mealtimes. Her studies were focused on fire-bending and Fire Nation history and governance. Izumi consulted with her tutors often, with her father when her fire-bending instructors made no headway in their explanations, and even the Princess Regnant for fire-bending demonstrations and long discussions about a bygone era of the Fire Nation.  


Izumi used to ask Rana questions, too, but it took only seven times before the clever young girl understood her mother was seldom the best, or even a viable, resource. With the specialisation of Izumi's education, Rana mourned the end to any guidance she could offer.  


Rana never dreamed her marriage would result in romance. But she never thought her husband would not even bother to get to know her - because he already loved someone else. She had waited patiently, steadfastly for so long, with only moonlight to accompany her on chilly nights.  


One night, Rana noted the Fire Lord was prompt to their evening meal - his workload must not have been as heavy as it had been the previous nights. She could wait no longer, and requested a moment of his time when he retired to his study.  


"My Lord, why did you marry me?"  


He appeared shocked to hear such a question after nearly two decades of marriage, and at a loss for words.  


"It's quite all right, my Lord," Rana said softly, dropping her stoic mask. "I want to understand, why you did not marry the Princess Regnant. At my leisure, I have read the books and scrolls Izumi studies. Such a marriage has happened multiple times among your ancestors. Your child would have been heartily welcomed," she counted off the reasons. Looking him straight in the eye, she added, "You two would have been _happy_." For once Rana did not hide the hurt in her voice.  


The Fire Lord's mouth gaped for several minutes before his sharp intake of breath broke the tense silence. "You know."  


"Since before Izumi's birth, my Lord."  


"I am so sorry." Rubbing his temples with two fingers on each side, the Fire Lord's years of burden had visibly caught up to him. He was only just about middle-aged, but the stress lines on his face suggested a man ten years older.  


"And I am sorry you cannot openly acknowledge your love." Rana meant it, no matter how much the truth tore at her with its fangs and claws.  


"We never wanted you to suffer," the Fire Lord began quietly, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a ceramic flask of rice wine. He poured himself a cup and offered Rana one as well, which she accepted. "The Fire Nation needed to prove, very publicly, we were serious about world harmony. The Council of Fire Sages wanted us both to make strategic marriages." He downed his rice wine and poured himself another.  


"We debated and negotiated, argued and begged. Eventually, they allowed us a compromise. One of us would be allowed freedom. The other must marry for the good of the state." His fingers toyed with the tiny cup and his golden eyes focused on the surface of its nearly-clear liquid, his mouth grim. "As Fire Lord, it was preferable that I give in."  


It was not a lie, but Rana suspected it was not the entire truth either. Her husband was good and kind and plenty intelligent, but he lacked guile - at the negotiating table, that's what his sister was for.  


His breathing became irregular and Rana realised he was holding back tears. "I love her. And I could never have forced her away, sold her like chattel. She belongs here." He repeated his mantra about them being two halves of the same weapon.  


Rana hesitatingly set a hand on the Fire Lord's back, slowly rubbing circles the same way she used to comfort Izumi. She ruefully mused that he hadn't been above buying _her_ like chattel, uprooting her away from where _she_ belonged.  


It could have been worse. A month later, a messenger came from Rana's father. Juri had died trying to birth her ninth child. Her lifeless body would be transported home for interment. The Fire Lord graciously granted Rana permission to return to the Earth Kingdom for the memorial service and as much time as she needed to grieve; he even allowed Izumi one week to pay her respects to an aunt she had never met.  


For the most part, Rana's heart felt much at ease the month she was home in Ba Sing Se. She often wandered the city streets, just basking in the greens, golds, and browns of familiar robes. She wandered through the Middle and Lower Rings admiring the little plots of land the peons tended; to her surprise, she missed seeing non-manicured gardens. Years ago, she avoided leaving the Upper Ring, having been taught the lower-classes gushed iniquity with every fibre of their being. But she was a consort of the Fire Nation now; the Dai Li tailed her everywhere. What did she have to fear from thieves and robbers?  


Most shocking for Rana was how uncomfortable her family's estate had become. Everything appeared to be as she had left it, from the gold rooftops to the teak railings to the stone foundations. She had longed for home for so long, and yet she found she had no home here any longer. In the midst of Ba Sing Se's warm autumn, Rana felt no warmth in her childhood abode, even bundled up in her old bed.  


Her brother had greeted her with a tight embrace, earning him a rebuke from their stern father. She had enjoyed spoiling her adorable nephews and nieces with sweets from the Fire Nation. But her sister-in-law, lovely as ever, had been distant, her jade-coloured eyes far away, her soft smile a mask. Rana wondered if she missed Gaoling terribly, the same way Rana had thought she missed Ba Sing Se.  


Kisa's glaring absence went unspoken - her old room converted into a spartan warehouse.  


Rana rose early every day to spend as little time in her parents' house as possible. When she tired of visiting with friends who had married locally or wandering the rings of Ba Sing Se, she would hide in the crypt to pour her heart out to Juri, who would neither judge nor berate her for her tears. Any temptation to stay and not return to the Fire Nation had all but vanished.

  
  


Upon return to the Royal Capital, she assigned herself a new goal and steeled her heart to fulfill it. Back when the Fire Lord occasionally shared her bed, Rana sometimes heard him repeat those curious words from his slumber: "Azula always lies." As long as Rana had known her, her painted lips had never uttered anything untrue. Rana supposed he'd developed the mindset from a few key lies in her youth. Curious. But then again, Rana was a wallflower, never privy to anything of interest.  


"Your Highness." Rana dwarfed the petite Princess Regnant by a full head, yet she felt meek as a mouse in her presence.  


The Fire Princess slightly turned her face away from the lavender rose she had been assessing, her golden eyes acknowledging Rana. Her lips softly arced in a polite smile, the same noncommittal smile she wore by default to greet dignitaries. "Speak."  


Any courage Rana felt earlier was carried away. "There is something I'd like to speak to you of. A delicate matter." She glanced nervously around the garden. The closest Royal Gardener was quite a ways away, the nearest servant even farther.  


The flame in her golden eyes danced in mild amusement. "Yes, Zuzu mentioned that." She turned her entire body to face Rana, her face-framing side-locks flowing sleekly like water with the motion of her body. The rest of her long raven's-wing hair was kept in the flawless top-knot that signified unmarried Fire Nation women, the ultimate expression of the Princess's sorrow. "And you were dissatisfied with his answer."  


"What the Fire Lord said to me was true, but incomplete. Princess." She hastily added.  


"Our mother was forcibly taken to bear us. Zuzu isn't Father. He wouldn't make me marry _just_ for some symbolic show of solidarity." Without looking away from Rana, the Princess Regnant pointed at an aphid-eaten leaf and set it ablaze. "My lifelong duty is to protect the Fire Nation's best interest with my mind and my fire-bending, and that means I belong here. The Sages laid down their law, so he married. And tell me, Rana, have you recovered from birthing Izumi?"  


"The doctors have taken very good care of me."  


"But is your gait the same as before you carried her?"  


"No."  


The Princess Regnant tilted her head, her smile wry. "The Sages considered the possibility of having me birth Zuzu's child. It would render my utility to the Fire Nation limited for at least a year, and permanently change my hips and my centre-of-gravity." She shuddered and her eyes darkened in - could it be? - fear. "Sacrificing me to create the greatest fire-bender ever to live was tempting, but there was also the likelihood they would have needlessly sacrificed my fire-bending to birth a non-bender."  


With a sudden motion, she extended both arms and small lapis-coloured flames shot out. Rana flinched in spite of herself, then counted the flames dancing amid the rose bushes. Thirty-two, not including the one from earlier. Rana would bet all her worldly possessions each flame landed on a damaged leaf.  


"My fire-bending is a part of me. That risk was unacceptably high."  


And there it was. No wonder the Fire Lord had lost interest so quickly after Izumi's birth. He married a girl he did not love and sired an heir with her, lavished her with gifts, all to protect his beloved Princess.  


"Thank you, Princess." She finally had clarity.  


"Rana."  


"Yes, Princess."  


"As then-heir to the Fire Lord, I was obligated to grace the wedding with my attendance." She closed the distance between the two, her golden eyes directly boring into Rana, dry but pained. She pursed her lips for a moment; when they next parted, her thin voice was bitter as gentian root. "I watched him make those sacred vows to another. I didn't know whether tears or _flames_ would have erupted from my body first. You will never understand the depths of my love for him." Her words were soft, non-accusatory, factual.  


"No. But I do understand the depths of your sorrow." The predicament was all too familiar to any woman born above a certain status. "We can never air our personal grievances, only weep a little when there is no one to see our tears. Our status in society precludes that."

  
  


Rana stood on her sweeping balcony, overlooking the Royal Gardens. Directly below was the little plot of land allocated for Rana's native Earth Kingdom garden, so that Rana could be near to the fragrances to which she was accustomed, and so that they would be out of sight, out of mind for everyone else in the Fire Lord's palace - not unlike Rana herself.  


She thought of her parents, unhappily stuck in their old ways, miserable in their opulence. She thought of Kisa, who may or may not be alive and well, trying to forge a path foreign to the life she knew. She thought of Juri, finally in the warm embrace of their family's crypt after long years of suffering at her selfish husband's hand.  


She thought of the beautiful Princess Regnant, who was everything she could never have been. She thought of the Fire Lord, who at one point represented everything she could ever have wanted. But mostly, she thought of Izumi, lovely and lively, and right where she belonged.  


Izumi's future was limitless. Even wisdom and keen patience on one side. A cunning mind and relentless power on the other. With their guidance, Izumi was destined to be great. What could Rana possibly offer her flameborn child?  


A one-trick tool sold to raise her family's standing.  


An unwitting obstacle to two people's love.  


A useless burden to her daughter.  


She laughed and cried amid the Empress Orchids on the balcony until the sun was low in the sky, and her tears had dried into trails of salt on her face and her lips had cracked from dehydration. Rana carelessly tossed aside pieces of her Royal gown, silks signifying her status as Princess Consort; she wore only the foundation gown when she stood in front of her armoire. Here it was: her favourite gown of her youth. At one point, the dress was the height of Ba Sing Se couture. Rana had always deemed it too precious to wear for non-occasions. Running her fingers over the deep green silk, she regretted not wearing it more often. It must look outdated now, but Rana didn't care; she was not caught up on Earth Kingdom fashions.  


She lovingly put on the gown, struggling where her body had changed since her teenage years, but her mind already numb to those petty annoyances. The silk puckered visibly where the garment was too tight, but Rana paid it no heed. Tonight, she dressed for her own eyes only.  


In front of her vanity, she removed the flame-motif Royal headpiece and set it aside without a second glance, and undid the partial top-knot that had been her daily hairstyle since her wedding. With rusty wrists and shaking hands, she rebrushed her greying hair and pinned it into a much more familiar low bun. The servants back in Ba Sing Se did it better, but she was satisfied nonetheless. She brought with her to the Fire Nation only a single traditional hairpiece, and she intended to have it gifted to Izumi, so she made do with the Empress Orchids that decorated her quarters.  


Rana smiled at her reflection. This was the way it should have been.  


She walked back out to her balcony and carefully climbed over and sat on the railing. It was shaping up to be yet another beautiful night. The sun's light was not yet gone, but stars frolicked against the dark violet of the sky. The Starlight Plumeria Izumi had begged to import from her namesake isle began to open with the rising of the moon, taking the olfactory stage as the Empress Orchids took their bows for the evening.  


The Fire Lord and Princess Regnant were tied up in a meeting with the Avatar, the Council of Sages, and seemingly half of the ministers in the nation.  


Izumi was painting the training grounds in shades of persimmon and saffron.  


There was no one between her and freedom.  


Like a bird in a newly-opened gilded cage, Rana inched nervously forward; then, with a look of exhilaration, took flight.

My dearest Fire Lord  
Please don't tell Izumi the truth.  
Be happy - you have my blessing.  
With all my love,  
Rana

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I am actually obsessed with writing "Beloved Flower, Unloved Flower" stories themed around unrequited love. They almost invariably involve a young girl who falls in love with a happily-married older man. This is the first at delving into the mind of a person who gets the marriage but not the love. I wasn't originally going to actually put it in the title, but with the recurring floral theme, I deemed it suitable.
> 
> 12 Aug 2020 - Portrayal of noblewomen's lives is somewhat inspired by that of high-status women in early 20th century Japan wherein dirty laundry is kept behind closed doors, even if the woman is the undisputed victim. In classical Japanese poetry, "Izumi" is a poetic place-name with its own subtext as well as a homophone for "When did I see?" in old Japanese; it is used most famously in a poem by Fujiwara no Kanesuke and collected into the anthology Ogura Hyakunin Isshu. "Blackberry-lily seed" (nubatama no) is also a makurakotoba (poetic pillow word) that serves as poetic shorthand for "jet-black [hair]"; this is one of my favourite pillow words and I use it often. The "short-bloomed sal tree" references the opening poem of Tale of the Heike, wherein the white flowers of two intertwined sal trees represent the law that the prosperous must decay. The "moonlight" as Rana's bedfellow is a reference to several poems about the Uji Maiden, who spreads the moonlight as she sleeps alone. I am also VERY done with the words "long" and "longing" for a... _long_ time.
> 
> 12 Aug 2020 - Ellie - Thank you for your review. I'm glad to hear this emotionally resonated with you. This is absolutely just Rana's POV - her third-person limited voice almost never refers to Fire Nation citizens by name because she struggles to connect with them (Fire Lord, my Lord, Princess Regnant) and because she herself hypocritically cannot be bothered to care (sister-in-law). Her matter-of-fact classism is also fair for her upbringing and is one way I flavoured her personality despite her being the central voice. The people around her don't dislike her but they are caught up in their own lives, particularly Izumi who would genuinely have loved her mother. My belief is that Zuko would have protected Izumi from the truth until she was much older, likely when she was on the cusp of marriage. Rana had virtually no obligations at court, so she browsed Izumi's texts because they were somewhat abridged for children (versus browsing the denser texts kept in a Royal Library) in the hope that she could at least connect with some of the people around her (Izumi, Zuko, maybe even a favourite servant); and when she got to genealogy, she had the idea to check whether it was explicitly forbidden to marry within the family. I believe Rana was fond of Zuko and loved him as much as she could, but her hurt primarily stemmed from that she was "never even a player".
> 
> 17 Aug 2020 - Other Review Responses - Although Rana's life is defined by Zuko and Azula's lie of omission, Rana is lying as well. She knows better than to hope for love, but she lies to herself that she is above wanting it. Despite Rana's letter, it would NOT result in an Azuko wedding; instead, her death would hang over them as they pondered where they went wrong. They took care of her material needs and tried to bring the Earth Kingdom to Rana; as far as they are concerned, they had done everything, hadn't they? Their traumatic childhoods definitely still affect their ability to understand the degree of emotional connection most people need.


End file.
